Of Family, Sacrifices, and Hope
by Tressa
Summary: Ed muses over his existence in Munich


Title: Of Family, Sacrifice and Hope

Author: Tressa

Rating: K+

Summary: Ed muses over his existence in Munich

Authors note: Unbetaed.

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**Spoilers for the End of the Series and Conquerors of Shamballa**

Life was funny, he thought, lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had never been dealt a fair hand in life and had very few times actually asked for one. Tearing his eyes away from the ceiling to glance outside, he looked out at the graying sky.

This was one time when he wished that he had been dealt one.

Clenching his prosthetic tightly into a fist, he wondered if this truly was the price paid for committing a taboo. He scoffed, raising the flesh colored replacement in the air, his gaze drifting to the imperfection that it was. His first dream, his first real dream, was to bring back their mother. When that single attempt failed, his dream shifted to getting his brother's body back. However, it only took him a short while to realize that dreams were for the innocent; for those who did not tread on holy ground. And while he did not believe in anything holy or sanctified, he knew he had committed a grievous sin. And with his innocence went his ability to dream.

Dreams became obsessions; guilt replaced want. Wants became needs and soon his sheltered world of alchemically created toys and playing in the grass with his brother and Winry were replaced by forbidden arrays and near death experiences. He had lost friends, colleagues, and had tied himself to a military that he wasn't entirely in agreement with. He had gone through fire and back and for what purpose?

To see his brother's smile on the body that Ed himself had inadvertently sacrificed.

He had heard the whispers of those who knew. Those who claimed that he didn't need to burden himself with such a heavy load. That he was young and missing his mother and had taken what had been given to him and acted on impulse.

Their words didn't matter. His own brother had tried to persuade him and he pushed forward.

Sighing, he lowered his hand, brushing nerveless fingers against the simple blanket on his bed. What had began as a dream had turned to an obsession. And obsessions, no matter how pure their intents are, always lead to a place better left untouched.

Pushing himself up, he strolled to the window and glanced outside, watching the people walk about in the dismal Munich weather. Was any of this real? The faint smell of rain invaded his senses, yet no one else seemed to notice. Or didn't care.

Was all this a dream? No, not a dream. A nightmare perhaps? Or maybe this was the price he was paying? Whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant. He wasn't about to distinguish if it was heaven or . . . something else.

Maybe, he should just accept. Accept that which had been given him. Give in to the fatigue that had plagued him since that day. Accept that whatever happened to Al happened.

"Stupid," he growled, punching his real hand against the splintered wooden window sill. The pain from the impact traveled up his arm and he swore violently, shaking his hand to rid it of the soreness.

Pausing briefly, he stared at the lightly scratched, red knuckles as the pain began to slowly die down. That feeling, that unbearable sensation - an indicator that he was still alive. That he wasn't past feeling. And if he was lucky enough to feel this, if he was lucky enough to make it through in one piece . . .

Fate owed him. It owed him big. He paid the ultimate sacrifice. He was willing to give it all up. For Al. Something had to have happened.

Pushing himself away from the window, he stopped briefly to collect some notes that Alfonse Heidrich had given him. Rocketry. It was amazing what they had managed to accomplish without alchemy. If they could truly get a man to the stars, who knew what else could be accomplished? Who knew what was beyond that?

Grabbing his jacket from the chair, he began his descent down the stairs. He may die trying. He may never figure it out. But if there was even the slightest possibility of returning home to see if his brother was flesh and blood again, then it was enough to get him going. He at least needed to make an effort.

After all, there was equivalent exchange, right? Al had given up everything to bring him back from beyond the gate. He followed him throughout their adventures.

He may not achieve anything. But, to see his brothers face, to see his smile, to see if he was successful. To see if he was able to pay his brother back for his sacrifice . . .

Well, it was worth it. Right?


End file.
